


Pretty in Petals

by titansatemysoul



Series: Wayward Son, We're By Your Side (Prompt Fill Collection) [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fill, kid!Ignoct
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 07:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13185087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titansatemysoul/pseuds/titansatemysoul
Summary: Children are prone to mischief, and Ignis and his little Prince are no exception. Though as far as punishment goes, there are worse things than being confined to a garden for one afternoon.





	Pretty in Petals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IseliaDragonwill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IseliaDragonwill/gifts).



> _prompt ; flower crowns_

“You got us _kicked out_ ,” Ignis frets, looking after one of the Prince’s many attendants, Amelia, stalking back into the palace. Responsible for the upkeep of his chambers, she’s been with Noctis since his infancy. Today however, he managed to get the best of her nerves, underfoot at every turn while she tried to clean around him.

Half dozen harsh words and one broken lamp later, Noctis, and by extension, Ignis, have found themselves exiled to the courtyard.

“So what?” Noctis shrugs, plopping down on the grass, taking his handheld console from his pocket. The tinny theme music of his latest obsession pings, and just like that he’s fully engrossed. “I don’t care.”

“Well I do,” Ignis snaps, eyeing his best friend’s game device with mild envy. He’ll have one soon enough. For his birthday, he’s been promised.

Meanwhile Ignis is left to toil under the hot sun, laying back on one of the stone benches, staring up at the blue sky outlined by the surrounding monolith of the Citadel.

His attention is drawn by a rustling just behind the rose bushes. With Noctis occupied, he ventures forth to find Andrew, one of the caretakers of the palace gardens. He’s on his knees, hands buried in the earth. Beside him sits a basket, filled with various picked flowers. They’re a bit bent and a few are wilted, but the colors are still vibrant and stems still green.

“What are you doing?” Ignis asks upon his approach.

“Oh, hello, Ignis,” Andrew looks up from his work. He shields his sun weathered face from the daylight with a dirt caked hand, smiling up at the little advisor. “On your own today? Where is the Prince this afternoon?”

“He’s here,” Ignis says, jamming his thumb in Noct’s direction. “We got sent away while Miss Amelia cleans. It’s his fault.”

“You boys, always causing trouble,” Andrew laughs, wiping himself off on his apron.

“But it wasn’t me!” Ignis protests. He pushes his glasses up his scrunched up nose, planting his hands on his hips. “Noctis wanted to race cars, he’s the one who broke something.”

“Well,” the gardener relents, hands up in supplication. He reaches for a flower, holding it out to Ignis. “I’m sorry, then.”

Ignis takes it, inspecting the petals. They’re frayed and curled at the edges, the soft fragrance wafting into his nose.

“What do you do with these ones?” Ignis asks.

“Throw them away, unfortunately. Or turn them to compost,” Andrew explains, then, “But why don’t you take some? I’ll show you a trick.”

And so Ignis sits down in the dirt, learns to twist the stems together until he fastens the end and finds himself with a small, sweet smelling wreath.

“There,” Andrew says, placing it atop his head. “Take the rest. I’d much rather see them enjoyed than in the garbage.”

Ignis plods back to where Noctis still sits, now laid back, his handheld over his head to block out the sun.

“Where’d you go?” he asks Ignis, propping himself up on an elbow. Noct catches the adornment he wears, and immediately forgets about the game. “Where’d you get that?”

Ignis touches the flowers on his head, giving Noctis a toothy grin.

“I made it!” He chirps. “Andrew showed me.”

“Let me see,” Noctis says, reaching for the crown, making a frustrated little noise when Ignis plucks it off his head, holding it out of Noct’s reach. “Ignis, come on!”

The two banter a few moments, Ignis taunting, Noctis whining, both giggling all the while.

“I’ll make you one,” Ignis says finally, finding a seat on the ground and taking the handful of the cut flowers he’s been given.

“Show me?” Noctis joins, sitting close peering intently over his shoulder while he works.

“You try,” Ignis says, handing him a bunch once the Prince has watched enough to learn.

“This is hard,” Noct grumbles, struggling to interweave the stems without crushing the petals.

“And...done!” Ignis holds up the crown, blue, ivory and violet petals littering the rim.

Noctis makes a distressed sound, only half way through his own.

“It’s okay!” Ignis says quickly. “You can wear this one!”

Ignis carefully places the crown on the Prince’s head, tucking his hair neatly behind his ears.

Noctis smiles at him, half hearted, fingering the messy line of flowers in his hands.

“I wanted to make one myself,” he mumbles quietly. “I’m not good at it.”

“It looks fine,” Ignis tries, but that only seems to displease Noct further. “It does, I’ll show you!”

Ignis takes his stems, fastening the ends. “Now it’s a bracelet!”

“Oh, okay,” Noctis says, disappointment fading easily. “I like it!”

“You should put it on!”

But Noct doesn’t, just shakes his head making his crown fall askew. He takes Ignis by the wrist, slipping the bracelet on.

“You should have it,” he says matter of factly. “It looks better on you.”

“Thank you,” Ignis, touches one of the petals, smiling. Before they can go on, a great shadow looms above them.

“Noctis,” Regis stands over them, larger than life from where they sit. He wears an expression that can mean only one thing; the Prince is in trouble.

“Oh hey, Dad,” Noct says sheepishly, craning his neck to look up at his father, glancing at Ignis for solidarity. “Do you like my crown?”

“It’s very nice,” Regis replies. “Did you make it?”

“No, Ignis did,” Noctis says, holding up Ignis’ wrist to show his own handiwork. “I made this one.”

Regis kneels, looking closely at the woven craft.

“This is fine work,” he praises. “From both of you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ignis says gratefully.

“A fine way to spend your afternoon,” the King declares, rising to his feet. “Seeing as you’re unwelcome in your room.”

Both boys cringe at the mention of the earlier mischief, bracing for their reprimand.

“I’m told you were being disruptive,” Regis goes on. “And you broke something?”

“Not on purpose!” Noctis defends, “Ignis pushed me and my hand slipped.”

“I did not!” Ignis retorts, unwillingly dragged into the fray. “I was only trying to stop you!”

“Boys,” Regis ends their bickering, holding out his hand to Noctis. “Give it here, Noct.”

“But _Dad_ ,” Noct groans, taking his handheld from his pocket.

“You’ll manage,” Regis tuts, plucking it out of his hand. “Two days.”

Ignis pats Noctis on the shoulder, watching the King return to his duties.

“That’s not so bad,” he tries to console him, but the Prince is unmoved.

“You look pretty,” Noctis mumbles, slouched over and picking at the ends of his shoe laces, immersed in self-pity.

“The kitchen staff will be switching soon,” Ignis ventures, “I bet we could sneak some of the cookies we had last night if we hurry.”

Noctis perks up instantly, the prospect of sweets reinvigorating.

“You really do look pretty,” he says as the make for the kitchens.

“Thanks!” Ignis smiles, pulling Noct behind a column as a few staffers pass by. They giggle together watching for them to turn a corner and Ignis whispers,

“You look pretty too.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you like it dear <3
> 
> i have such a soft spot for little ignocts. and this prompt was too cute to pass up!  
> any excuse to throw regis in there :D


End file.
